“Yep.”
His stare widened for half a second before glinting in the shadows. “You’re…”
“Not wearing a bra,” Marley confirmed, sending up a brief prayer of thanks for whomever had invented the whole tank top/built-in bra thing.
“Really fucking hot,” he corrected, grabbing her hand. They moved through the small living space and past the even smaller kitchen that Marley could just make out in the ambient light from beyond the blinds. Greyson led her through a doorway to what had to be—yes—his bedroom, where the fireworks sent glimpses of silvery light past the curtains and over the space. Stopping at the foot of the bed, he turned to face her, his hands resting on the denim at her hips. They didn’t stay there, though. The heat between Marley’s legs pulsed faster as he unbuttoned her jeans, then faster still as he lowered the zipper. His fingers brushed over her sex, and a noise rose from the back of her throat that she barely recognized as belonging to her.
“I want—”
“I know,” Greyson said, pressing closer until his mouth hovered over hers. “I promised to fuck you, good and proper, and I’m a man of my word.” He firmed his touch between her thighs as proof. “But we do things a little slower out here in the country. I’ll get you where you want to be. But first, you’re gonna enjoy the ride.”
Unable to trust her voice, Marley just nodded. Greyson lowered her jeans, and she aided the process by kicking out of her boots, letting him undress her until all she was wearing was a pair of dark gray cotton hip-huggers.
“There.” He straightened, his fingers trailing up the outside of her arm, her shoulder, her chin. Marley knew he was looking at her closely, taking her in just as she’d done to him a few minutes ago. Rather than feel self-conscious at the fact that not only was she damn near naked, but he was far more dressed than her, she felt bold. Every sweep of those brown-black eyes turned her on more than the one before it, as if she could feel Greyson’s stare like a touch, gentle in some places, hungry and deliciously rough in others. His gaze found her breasts, and her nipples instantly tightened, her pulse knocking hard at her throat. Marley watched as his eyes lowered over her belly, dipping over the top of her panties and lingering right where she felt slippery and desperate and God, so ready to be touched.
The thought lit like a wildfire inside her mind, and she slid a hand over her belly, her fingers resting at the top edge of her panties.
“Marley.” Greyson’s voice was low, all gravel. But the word wasn’t a warning, she realized with a start as she saw the look on his face.
It was reverent.
He dropped to his knees, lifting his eyes back to hers. “Show me.”
Surprise unfurled in her chest, chased quickly by wicked desire. She didn’t hesitate, hooking her thumbs along the sides of her panties and pushing them lower over her hips. Greyson caught them halfway down her thighs and slid them free, looking up at her. Waiting.
So Marley did what he’d told her to. Sweeping her hand between her legs, she circled her index finger over her clit, releasing a moan at the sparks of pleasure moving through her.
Greyson loosened a swear in reply, splaying one hand over her hip to hold her steady. “You are the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Greyson,” she murmured, loving how he watched. She widened her stance slightly on the floorboards, pushing her fingers tighter to her core. But as good as it felt, she needed more. “Please. I don’t just want to come.” Marley looked down to catch his stare. “I want you.”
Not even one beat passed between when she’d finished speaking and he pressed his mouth to her sex. Her muscles clenched at the intimate contact, at the way his tongue so expertly joined her fingers on her aching clit, and her chin fell forward on her chest.
“Ah.” Pleasure bolted through her, coming from everywhere. Surrounding her and filling her up. Greyson smiled, a gesture she both saw and felt as his stubble grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
“You taste even prettier than you look. Now take what you need, darlin’. I’ve got you.”
And he did. After three strokes with her fingers and his tongue working in tandem, he’d memorized her body, giving and taking in flawless rhythm. Marley slid her hands low to deepen their connection, knotting her fingers in his hair. Rocking her hips against him, she rode his mouth, the need in her core pulsing harder with every thrust of his tongue. Desire coiled like a spring, deep in her belly, beckoning. Begging.
And then Greyson closed his lips over her clit, his tongue swirling hard, and she flew apart. Her release rolled through her like thunder, turning the moan in her throat into a broken cry. Marley didn’t even try to hold back as her orgasm intensified for one bright second, pulling her muscles taut and her breath to stillness before leaving her in a blissed-out, boneless state. She was vaguely aware of Greyson standing, then wrapping his arms around her shoulders. His nearness felt so simple, yet so vital and purely good, that it reignited the heat inside of her, and she pulled him back toward his bed.
“Come here,” she said, and although he chuckled, he stretched out beside her.
“Still bossy, I see.”
Marley arched a brow, reaching into the slim space between their bodies to run her hand up his denim-clad thigh. “You’re not surprised, are you?”
“Nope.” He sucked in a breath when her fingers reached his cock. “In fact, I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”
“Ah. Then you’ll probably love this.”
With a lightning-fast twist of her wrist, Marley had undone his jeans and yanked them open with clear intent. Slipping her palm under the fabric but over his boxer briefs, she curled her hand around his length and pumped. Once. Twice. A third time—
Greyson cursed. “When you’re right, you’re right,” he said, toeing out of his boots, then taking off his jeans. She made quick work of his boxer briefs as soon as the rest of his clothes were past tense, and oh, she didn’t want to wait.
“Condom.” She made a move to dig up her own jeans, which at this point were who knew where, although she’d find them and the condom she’d tucked into her back pocket in the name of not getting knocked up. But Greyson beat her to it, reaching into the slim drawer on the table beside his bed to produce a condom from its depths. A few economical moves had it exactly where it needed to be, and one more had him kneeling between her thighs.
But Marley had other plans. Hooking one leg around the corded muscles of his waist, she used the leverage to switch their positions on the rumpled bed sheets.
“I’m not the only one who should enjoy the ride,” she said, straddling him just below his navel.
His laughter hit her deep, traveling from her chest to her core and tightening everything along the way. “By all means,” Greyson said, raising his hips until the head of his cock was pressed against the entrance to her core. Close, so close.
“Ladies first.”
Marley rocked back at the same time he pushed forward, the movements joining them evenly. Her inner muscles locked at the sudden pressure, making her momentarily breathless and unable to move. Greyson’s fingers grasped harder at her hips, his low exhale filling the air between them, and he looked at her, eyes wide open and wild.
“So pretty. You’re so goddamned beautiful.” He lifted her, ever so slightly, watching her face. Her body. The hot, tight place where he was buried between her legs.
Marley began to move, adjusting to the fullness, then wanting more, fully turned on by watching him watch her.
“Greyson.” Pressing her shins firmly against the mattress, she anchored her balance, angling herself upright in his lap as he thrust into her from beneath. The change allowed his cock to uncover a spot deep inside of her that made her gasp, and she rocked faster, desperate to chase the sensation.
“Right there,” Greyson ground out, his stare as palpable as his touch as he gripped her hips, arching up to fill her faster, again and again. His fingers dug into her even harder, the pleasure/pain of his
touch and the near ferocity in his eyes daring her closer the edge. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Show me how good you feel with my cock inside of you.”
The words were like gasoline on the slow burn building inside of her, igniting and exploding all in an instant. Marley stilled, the intensity of her orgasm leaving her powerless to do anything other than feel, the pleasure and release combining to wash over her in wave after wave. Greyson remained true to his word, holding her firmly and slowing his movements, until finally, he simply held her steady, still seated in his lap. Gliding a hand from her hip to her cheek, he captured her gaze. It grounded Marley in the moment, bringing her back to her body and the fact that he was still rock hard inside of her, and she leaned forward to kiss him.
“Show me,” she said softly. “Show me what you need.”
The moment stretched out between them, making Marley’s heart flutter. Then Greyson began to move, and the flutter became an all-out gallop. Lowering his hand from her face, he grasped her hips, holding her flush against his lap as he thrust his hips up and down in powerful bursts. Each push grew more urgent, his grip tightening and his expression so intense, it knocked the breath from Marley’s lungs. But he’d held on for her, and what’s more, she reveled in the fierceness of his ministrations, wanting every dark and dirty second more than the last. She didn’t let go, moaning openly when his breath became erratic, harder still when his moan joined with hers. Greyson lifted his hips in one final, punishing thrust, his body going bowstring tight beneath her as he arched into her core with one last shout of her name.
Marley sagged over him, her head finding his shoulder. Their breath sawed out in unison, chest rising and falling rapidly together at first, then slower, deeper. After a minute, they disentangled, and Greyson moved quietly through a door she presumed led to a bathroom. He was only gone briefly before returning to the bed, and even though she knew pretty much anyone else would feel the sort of awkwardness that went with the maiden voyage of a post-coital routine, she didn’t.
Instead, she just did what she wanted, slipping her arms around Greyson and letting him pull her all the way under the covers beside him.
19
Greyson smelled wildflowers. To be fair, what he smelled was almost certainly Marley’s shampoo, or maybe it was her body lotion, or, Christ, maybe her skin somehow magically smelled like the honeysuckle and jasmine growing untamed and lush around the corn fields on the south side of Whittaker Hollow’s property. Either way, he was inhaling the scent of it because Marley was naked in his bed, curled up beside him, and even though he knew her closeness, the way he’d told her things and let her really see who he was, should make him want to push her away, it didn’t.
He held her tighter, and holy crap, he was screwed.
Even more fucked up? He didn’t care. So he was screwed. The sex had been just short of other-worldly, and he’d meant what he’d said. She was truly beautiful.
Also, a Cross, who just so happened to be saying sayonara to the town he loved as soon as her bank account was in the black.
God, he was screwed.
“You okay?” Greyson asked, finally breaking the silence between them.
Marley nodded into his shoulder, the slide of her skin warm and sweet. “Mmm hmm. You?”
“Yeah.” Keeping her tight against him with one arm, he reached down with the other to pull the covers over her shoulders, wanting to keep her warm. She settled back in, her voice soft as it curved into his ear.
“You’re nothing like what you seem, you know.”
Ah, shit. “Right. Like Millhaven’s best kept secret,” he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
But she wasn’t laughing. “It makes me wonder why you push all the time,” she mused. “I mean, I know you said it’s because people expect it, and I get that it’s hard to prove folks wrong sometimes. But I really like the guy underneath all that bravado. I think other people might like him, too, if you stopped being so prickly and just gave them a chance to see who you are.”
Greyson’s gut tightened, then dropped. “Anyone ever tell you you’re brutally honest?”
Now she laughed. “All the time. But I don’t see the point in living my life any other way.”
The words traveled directly to his sternum and settled in, good and hard. He thought of how Marley was, how she’d given herself over so fully in bed, taking all the pleasure she’d wanted without caring what it had looked or sounded like. She’d been unapologetically fierce since he’d met her in that jail cell, yet honest with him about the kindness that had landed her there, too. She wasn’t afraid to be who she was, and even though Greyson outsized her and outmuscled her, the longer he sat there, the more he realized she was the stronger of them.
“Doesn’t it scare you to put yourself out there like that?” he asked, grateful for the shadows in his room that acted as cover. “To let everyone see just who you are, even though they’re probably going to judge you?”
Her heartbeat quickened against his rib cage, and it was the only sign of her surprise. “Maybe a little. I mean, I don’t go sharing every emotion I own. There are a few things I keep close to the vest. But for most things, it’s not worth it to cover them up. I am who I am. No apologies.”
“You keep things close to the vest.” Okay, fine. So it was a deflection of sorts. But seriously, she wasn’t the sort to go tight-lipped about…well, anything.
“Sure,” Marley said. When Greyson’s silence translated to the what-exactly-do-you-not-let-loose-with that was flying through his head, she whispered, “Sometimes I talk to my mom. Not anything huge or earth-shattering, but”—she paused for a shrug—“we always used to fill each other in at the end of the day, so I still talk to her. I’ve never told anyone I do it, though. I know it sounds kind of weird.”
Whether it was the honesty of her words or the fact that she’d given them up to him and only him, Greyson couldn’t be certain. But his own truth came shoveling out to meet hers without a second thought. “Please. That’s not weird. I talk to my uncle all the time.”
“You do?” She lifted her head from his shoulder, propping one elbow on the bed sheets beneath them in order to look at him fully.
And Greyson let her. “Yep. I mean, I don’t do it when other people can hear me. Not because I worry that talking to him is crazy,” he added. “But my conversations with him are private. No one else needs to hear ’em.”
“You don’t think it’s even the tiniest bit crazy that we talk to people who aren’t alive anymore?” Marley asked, but he shook his head.
“Nope. The way I see it, my uncle doesn’t need to be here to hear what I’ve got to say. And I might just be guessing, but I reckon your mom’s the same. There’s nothing crazy about wanting to keep her in your life.”
Marley smiled, slow and sassy and beautiful. “You’re not too bad at this whole true colors thing, you know.”
Heat flared back to life in his veins, and he hooked his hands under her arms to pull her close. She might be a Cross with one foot out the door for greener pastures, but right now, in this moment, Greyson didn’t care.
Right now, in this moment, what they had was enough.
“I’m good at lots of things,” he said, his cock twitching against his thigh as her breath caught and her stare glittered on his.
“You want to prove it, sweet talker?”
He flipped her to her back with a laugh. “Why, yes, ma’am. I sure as hell do.”
A few hours later, Greyson floated in the no-man’s-land between sleep and wakefulness, blissed out of his fucking mind. Scraps of memory filtered lazily past his mind’s eye—Marley’s chin-up lack of fear at climbing the water tower. The heat of her mouth as he’d kissed her. The shake and shiver of her body as he’d done so much more, then done it again for good measure.
The fact that she was tucked up tight next to him and they’d both fallen asleep, and shit, shit, shit!
“Hey,” Greyson whispered, his gut panging at having to wake
her even though he knew it was necessary. Christ, he’d been an idiot to get this careless.
Marley stirred and gave up a loose, sleep-laced sigh. “What time is it?”
He looked at the clock at his bedside, and ah, hell. “Just after two. I need to get you home.”
“Oh,” she said, her body going stiff and her voice suddenly loaded with awareness. “Okay. I’ll just grab my clothes.”
She sucked at hiding her true feelings, and now was no exception. Her disappointment slid right under his skin, and he captured her face to cradle it between his palms.
“Marley.” Christ, he could look at her for a month. And wasn’t that just some dangerous shit, all by itself. “It’s not that I don’t want you to stay.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s cool. We both totally knew what this was going into it, and I don’t regret—”
Greyson leaned in to kiss her, hard and fast. It was the only surefire way he knew to grab her attention. “I don’t want you to leave. Trust me, I’d like nothin’ better than to greet Sunday morning with you, right here like this.”
“Okay.” Her brows lifted, turning the word into a question. “So, why don’t you?”
“Because your…” He caught himself just in time. “Tobias would worry if you stayed out all night, and when I told you I do the things that matter right, I meant it. I know you’re an adult,” Greyson continued, because if he knew anything about the woman in his arms, it was that she was about to argue. “And that you say you’re not a Cross. But you’re livin’ in his house, and I mean to do right by you. So, yeah. I’ve got to take you home.”
After a pause that felt like an ice age, Marley nodded. “Alright,” she said, and he was relieved to see that she meant it.
But as she slid out of his bed and into her clothes, the part of him that backed up his reputation as a selfish bastard already wanted her back.
Crossing Hope (Cross Creek Series Book 4) Page 18
